Songs from Vagabondia/Vagabondia
VAGABONDIA.
Off with the fettersThat chafe and restrain!Off with the chain!Here Art and Letters,Music and wine,And Myrtle and Wanda,The winsome witches,Blithely combine.Here are true riches,Here is Golconda,Here are the Indies,Here we are free—Free as the wind is,Free as the sea,Free!
Houp-la!
What have weTo do with the wayOf the Pharisee?We go or we stayAt our own sweet will;We think as we say,And we say or keep stillAt our own sweet will,At our own sweet will.
Here we are freeTo be good or bad,Sane or mad,Merry or grimAs the mood may be,— Free as the whim.Of a spook on a spree,—Free to be oddities,Not mere commodities,Stupid and salable,Wholly available,Ranged upon shelves;Each with his puny formIn the same uniform,Cramped and disabled;We are not labelled,We are ourselves.
Here is the real,Here the ideal;Laughable hardshipMet and forgot,Glory of bardship—World’s bloom and world’s blot;The shock and the jostle,The mock and the push,But hearts like the throstleA-joy in the bush;Wits that would merrilyLaugh away wrong,Throats that would verilyMelt Hell in Song.
What though the dimes beElusive as rhymes be,And Bessie, with fingerUplifted, is warningThat breakfast next morning(A subject she’s scorning)Is mighty uncertain! What care we? LingerA moment to kiss—No time’s amissTo a vagabond’s ardor—Then finish the larderAnd pull down the curtain.
Unless ere the kiss come,Black Richard or Bliss come,Or Tom with a flagon,Or Karl with a jag on—Then up and afterThe joy of the nightWith the hounds of laughterTo follow the flightOf the fox-foot hoursThat double and runThrough brakes and bowersOf folly and fun.
With the comrade heartFor a moment’s play,And the comrade heartFor a heavier day,And the comrade heartForever and aye.
For the joy of wineIs not for long;And the joy of songIs a dream of shine;But the comrade heartShall outlast artAnd a woman’s loveThe fame thereof. But wine for a signOf the love we bring!And song for an oathThat Love is king!And both, and bothFor his worshipping!
Then up and awayTill the break of day,With a heart that’s merryAnd a Tom-and-Jerry,And a derry-down-derry—What’s that you say,You highly respectableBuyers and sellers?We should be decenter?Not as we please interCustom, frugality,Use and moralityIn the delectableDepths of wine-cellars?
Midnights of revel,And noondays of song!Is it so wrong?Go to the Devil!
I tell you that we,While you are smirkingAnd lying and shirkingLife’s duty of duties,Honest sincerity,We are in verityFree!Free to rejoice In blisses and beauties!Free as the voiceOf the wind as it passes!Free as the birdIn the weft of the grasses!Free as the wordOf the sun to the sea—Free!